Find Comfort in Pain
by englishpetal
Summary: AU LP. Lucas and Peyton are both struggling with disease and loneliness during a summer at camp. They learn to lean on each other while they live on borrowed time.
1. Time Of Your Life

**A/N:** The first time I posted this I forgot to do the edit & A/N bit and had to delete it and start again so who knows if this will work. If you're reading this, then well done me.

So what do you need to know? This is an AU fic, I think, maybe not, I really don't know what constitutes an AU fic. The chapters are going to be fairly short and hopefully that'll make it easier for me to update quickly. This idea came to me a little while ago and I sort of have it planned out but I'm also writing as I go so it could go horribly wrong. Have I convinced you to not read it yet? Reviews are absolute love and really appreciated but not necessary if you have nothing to say.

Lyrics in this chapter are 'Good Riddance (Time of your Life)' by Green Day. Here we go ...

-x-

_Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road  
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go  
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why  
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time_

_It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right  
I hope you had the time of your life_

"You're all here with me today because you've had a terrible fate befall you but that doesn't mean that it defines you. You're all connected by your illness, but you are still your own people. You have your own likes and dislikes, your own quirks, your own personalities and I for one want to start seeing them.

"I want to know how you guys feel. We can come to this room and talk every day but it doesn't mean squat if you guys can't open up to each other. I know that you don't want to talk about how sick you feel anymore. Or about what treatments you have coming up or about how your mom and your dad just won't stop crying when they think you can't hear them.

"I know that. What I don't know is what you guys do want to talk about ... yeah I figured that you wouldn't get real chatty straight away, so that is why I prepared this assignment earlier. I want all of you to start a diary and bring it here every morning to the group. Now you don't have to tell us what you wrote but hopefully it'll help you all figure out some of that stuff that's floating around in your heads and anything that you can't figure out for yourself, we can try and figure out for you.

"We're all in this together guys, never forget that. And all of us together, are going to kick cancer's collective ass!"

-x-

Peyton twiddled her pen back and forth between her fingers, staring at the blank page before her and wishing the words to come. She wasn't a writer she knew that, she knew that whatever she wrote was going to suck but she had promised her dad that she would give this camp a chance and so for him, she would try pretty much anything they threw at her.

So when Peter, the camp's chief guidance counsellor and a cancer survivor himself, had given her and the rest of the troop as they were frequently referred to by staff, she assumed as a way of giving them a spirit of bravery and unity, this particular assignment, she had agreed without much argument. After all, how hard could it be to write a few words in a diary when at any given moment she has hundreds of completely terrifying thoughts flying through her head?

Very hard, as it turned out.

She chewed ferociously on the end of her already quite mangled pen before starting to scratch the surface of the paper with the nib.

_Where am I supposed to start?_

_I guess that the hardest part about my diagnosis was my dad's reaction, or rather lack of. I could see the hurt behind his eyes but he'd be damned if he were to show me. Stupid male pride or whatever, I wish he'd just tell me that he's frightened too because at the moment I feel like the world's biggest scaredy cat, wanting to cry myself to sleep every night while he's just going on making arrangements with the doctor as if all I have is a cold._

_It's probably easier for him to go back to thinking that it is just a little cold, but it's not and I need him to be my dad and tell me that everything's alright. He thinks that he's doing the right thing by protecting me or whatever but it's not the right thing at all and if he'd just listen to me for one minute instead of shipping me off to this stupid cancer camp then maybe he'd see it!_

_I get that it's hard for him to think about losing me after losing my mom but he's just going to have to accept it, after all I've had to. I'm gonna die and that's all there is to it._

Peyton shoved the notebook off of her lap as the tears falling from her chin started to pool on the paper and blur the words.

_This blows!_

She scrawled and cried aloud before throwing the paper and pen across the room to hit the wall on the other side and then fall to the floor.

She hated this, hated to be the poor, sick girl crying all alone because she had no one to hold her while she wept. Actually, she hated to be crying at all. She'd always hated being the kind of person who holes herself up in her bedroom to cry, or scream over her loud music or get so frustrated that she rips through the paper that she's sketching on.

But that's who she is, who she always will be. But, she thinks, at least she won't be the girl that she hates for much longer.

-x-

_So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind  
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time  
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial  
For what it's worth it was worth all the while_

_It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right  
I hope you had the time of your life_

Lucas gazed out of the window of the wooden cabin of whose room 22 he'd come to know as the closest thing to home over the past few weeks, and looked out into the North Carolina wilderness.

How he'd spent the 16 years of his life growing up in the state and had never seen the beauty of the acres and acres of woodland that it had to offer, he wasn't quite sure but it seemed like a pretty safe bet that it was down to the huge amount of time he'd spent in and out of hospitals. Bare, clean, clinical spaces he was accustomed to. The freshness of the great outdoors he wasn't.

It occurred to him that not many boys of his age would be that interested in the rustle of leaves as the wind ripples by or the glimmers of light that shimmer across a lake as the sun rises, but he was. It calmed him and it inspired him. When he had a thing of rare and natural beauty in front of him, he could do nothing if not write.

And so the words came easily to him.

_When I sit and ponder the possible outcomes of what will be my 29th treatment, I can think of no one but my mother and everything that she has sacrificed so that I can live._

_The other kids here are concerned about what they have given up and everything that they have foregone in order to get better, and I'm not saying that that's wrong, they have every right to be angry about what they have missed out on. I'm angry too._

_I wish that I'd have had the chance to play more football or basketball like when I was younger, to feel that joy that comes with that first, glorious score. I wish that I'd have had a single date with a girl who wasn't a nurse or a doctor. I wish that I hadn't have lost touch with my best friend Haley, who was there for me when I was diagnosed and whose nine year old self cracked jokes the entire way through my first two months of chemo just to give me something else to think about, to laugh about. I wonder what she's like now, the kind of young woman she's becoming and I wish that I got to see her more often than I do._

_But none of that means anything, none of it hurts as much as it does to see the helplessness in my mom's eyes every time the cancer come back when we think it's in remission. She's the strongest person in the world, my mom, but I know that even she has a breaking point and I'm so scared that one day soon she's going to hit it._

_She's given up so much to be with me, by my side, through every course of treatment. She's taken me to hospitals out of state and across the country and in doing so has lost the feeling of home that she used to have. She gave up her career and sold her burgeoning cafe to pay for my treatments. She's relinquished any and all relationships, choosing to support me by herself and it's inexcusable that a beautiful, smart, wonderful woman like her is living life alone._

_And that's what she's really afraid of. Having to be alone. If I don't make it, that's what she'll be and I can't let that happen._

_So I'll keep fighting for her, and for me, for as long as I have to. Because she deserves more, she deserves everything and after all that she's done for me, it's the least I can do._

Lucas closed his notebook and replaced the cap on his pen with a firm click. Satisfied with what he had managed to compose and absolutely sure that he still wasn't going to share any of it with Peter or the 'troops', he set off for group counselling regardless, closing the door to his room behind him.

-x-

Leaving the cabin where all the group indoor activities were held, Lucas fixed his eyes on the blonde who was walking a few feet and a few fellow troopers in front of him. He thought that he had seen her yesterday, but as she was wearing a large baseball cap pulled down over her eyes, he couldn't be sure.

He was sure now. He'd recognise those skinny limbs and broken eyes anywhere and it made his heart twitch achingly to know that this perfect girl, the girl he used to dream would one day be his, had been struck down with the same unjust doom as he had.

He managed to catch up to her and very much on purpose, but trying to appear casual, he knocked into her side.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hit you, it's just these damn twigs everywhere. I swear one day soon one of us is gonna fall and break our necks, which might actually be a look-up I guess." He attempted at humour.

It worked. The corners of her lips curled upwards into a half-smile. "Finally, someone who'll actually admit that our situation sucks and is willing to joke about it, I can see us getting along, that is as long as you're gonna stay a miserable, inconsideration jackass who knocks into weak little girls for no reason. If one day you decide to get all happy inside then we'll have to stop speaking."

Lucas couldn't help the broad grin which spread across his gaunt features. She was definitely the sassy, gorgeous girl he had started to worship the moment he saw her.

"Hey," she pointed at his smile. "None of that."

Peyton continued strolling through the woodland, verging off of the set path which Lucas was sure she meant to do. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest and dug her fingernails into the flesh, her stare fixed straight ahead.

Despite this, Lucas could tell that she didn't want to be alone. "Do you mind if I walk with you?" He asked meekly.

"Free country." She blew him off with a wave of her hand but slowed down so that he could catch up.

"So how long have you been here?" He asked once he was walking alongside her again.

"I got here yesterday morning, you?"

"I've been here a few weeks, been to someplace similar before, but just not as nice."

"You think this is nice, stuck out in the middle of nowhere with only a few sterile smelling chemo treatment rooms and one TV for entertainment?" She scoffed.

"I think the peace and quiet is nice. It's so much better than being stuck in a big city hospital for weeks on end, with old people dying one side of you and people having babies a few doors down. It makes what we're going through so confusing, being here makes things simpler. For me anyway." He paused, embarrassment setting in. "Sorry, it's just I'm a bit of a pro at all this by now. I didn't mean to go off like that."

Peyton nodded, she hadn't thought there was any reason for him to apologise.

"So how long have you been ...?"

"A member of the poor, pathetic cancer kids club?" She finished for him. "3 weeks, 4 days and a couple of hours." She recited at once. "How about you?"

"Seven years. On and off. Doctors say that this time should be the last, the one that finally kills it for good. Either that or it'll kill me. This is my third 'last treatment' so I'm not holding my breath. I should be done with the chemo and everything in two months, three tops. How long have you got here?"

"Five months, tops. That's when the doctors say my egg timer runs out." She sighed quietly.

"So you're ...?" Lucas searched his mind frantically for any other answer.

"Terminal. Yeah." She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time and she couldn't help but notice what a warm blue they were and how they looked just a little bit familiar. "Anyway, that's no way to introduce myself. I'm Peyton."

He couldn't not be charmed by her bravado, he let out a small chuckle as he raised his hand for her to shake. "I'm Lucas."

_It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right  
I hope you had the time of your life_

-x-


	2. Hold The Other Line

_Breathe in, breathe out,  
Tell me all of your doubts,  
And everybody bleeds this way,  
Just the same_

_Breathe in, breathe out  
Move on and break down  
If everyone goes away, I will stay_

It was their fifth day of hanging out, after he initially introduced himself they had found a soft spot beneath two particularly droopy willow trees and sat. Talking occasionally, though mostly in a comfortable silence, Lucas leaned against one of the trees and Peyton opposite him lounging on the moss.

Though she had rarely made eye contact with him, let alone willingly struck up a conversation, the fact that she didn't tell him to go to hell was proof enough for Lucas that this girl did not want to be on her own.

They'd make their way to the spot after group therapy and sit until around lunchtime when Peyton would walk the short distance to the dining area to pick herself up a sandwich, eat most of it on her way back and polish off the rest quickly before repositioning herself beneath the willow. Lucas hadn't asked her to, but after she'd discovered that the mere smell of meat brings on his nausea after he had recounted a particular nasty effect of the chemo he'd had at a steak house when he was twelve, Peyton had just taken it upon herself to spare him the discomfort.

If she could get away with it, she'd probably choose to skip lunch too, but seeing as she was starting her chemo treatment the next week, the doctors had advised her to fill herself up with as much energy as she could muster before she couldn't handle eating anymore.

And there it was, the dreaded chemotherapy that she had to put up with for at least a month if she wanted to make it to her maximum six months. Well, five months now.

She'd said that she wanted to do it, but of course she didn't. She was sure that she'd rather spend two months feeling normal, than six chained to a hospital bed.

But the chemo came with the camp, which came with all the drugs and other palliative care included as well as it being a short distance from her home town where her dad could still remain so as not to have to see his sick daughter's deteriorating face. And so for her dad, she said yes.

Everyone had been trying to convince her that it wouldn't be that bad. Lucas had been telling her that it wasn't as horrific as it's made out to be. All she had to do was take one glance at his fragile body, battered and bruised from years of torturous treatment to know that she didn't believe him.

But he still continued to try and infuse her with some optimism, his weary eyes, which were far too drained for his age, sparkled every time he made her smile.

He told her tales of neurotic nurses and fellow prankster leukaemia patients who would switch their medical charts, play catch with each other's blood samples and take off their blood pressure monitors and play dead just for fun. He'd try and keep the conversation light but every so often he'd stumble upon a treasured memory and an equally treasured name would pass across his lips followed by a melancholy moment of silence before he carried on.

Peyton could tell that he was obviously talking about a former friend who hadn't made it through like he had and she couldn't help but wonder if she would become just another name that in respect he'd pause after mentioning.

So they would sit and chat, if you can refer to cancer talk so casually, until they were called away by one of the counsellors for an assortment of ghastly activities, chemo, radiation, MRIs or the worse of all, the group bonding sessions.

Lucas revealed all about his abundance of hospital attendances and his lack of school ones and talked both sadly and sweetly about his mother. He rather dejectedly told her about how he missed his friends, the ones he had in kindergarten as he hadn't made many since then and about how he wished he could play sports like he had been able to when he was younger.

Peyton on the other had disclosed hardly anything to him. She had explained to him that she was with a father and without a mother to which he had quietly added that his situation was the other way around. She told him that she had barely seen any of her friends since her diagnosis and recalled what a shock it was to have found out she was sick. He knew that she liked Radiohead and Muse, as he had heard her music blaring through her earphones and that she liked to draw.

Well he wasn't sure if she actually liked it or not, as every time he caught her scrawling she wore a frown of despair but she seemed to do it often enough that he presumed that it was still a hobby of hers. He neglected to tell her that he could remember watching her draw from afar when they were younger for fear that she would run away from his stalking ass.

She wasn't one to reveal too much too soon to a total stranger and in a way it made him feel more privileged for the things that she did choose to divulge to him.

_We push and pull  
And I fall down sometimes  
I'm not letting go  
You hold the other line_

_Cause there is a light in your eyes, in your eyes_

"Whatcha writing?" Lucas squinted against the midday sun as his eyes peered over the top of his notebook to see Peyton frantically scribbling away on hers.

"Nothing." She replied curtly. "I'm sketching." She added quickly and slightly friendlier. "I've given up on the whole written diary thing, I suck at writing so if I have to do this stupid journal, I'm gonna do it my way."

He craned his neck to get a better view of what she was drawing and though she wasn't usually happy to share her art with anyone, she thought that she owed him something for putting up with her especially cranky self today. Peyton held up her notebook for Lucas to see and in response to his squint, she passed it to him.

He attempted to take in all of the detail that she had so artistically pencilled and was overwhelmed by a feeling of sad, empty loneliness. The young girl with pigtails who sat in the dying grass crying huge tears from her round, black eyes couldn't have symbolised Peyton's current predicament any more if she tried. Though he couldn't quite imagine her with her hair in pigtails the desolate image fit her to a tee.

He took the opportunity to flick through the last few pages of her book, catching glimpses of an old, decrepit house; a mother with wings holding a baby and a composite sketch of two girls, one blonde and one brunette, in various poses with the resounding phrase 'a friendship fading' etched across it.

And then he came across a picture of himself, or more specifically of the two of them sitting in the very spot they were in now. Her drawing and him writing whilst the sun set behind them.

Lucas stared at that sketch for a while longer than the others and so Peyton leaned across to see what he was looking at.

"You drew me." He muttered as some form of explanation, his eyes not leaving the paper. He couldn't believe that he had made it into her notebook of angst and though some wouldn't, he definitely took it as a compliment.

"Yeah." She replied nonchalantly and then seeing the fire ignite in his eyes, the fire she would come to learn only she could fuel, she decided to elaborate.

"I draw what's on my mind, what's in my life and right now you're in my life. You're my friend, you're my only friend really and I have no idea why you like me ... but it's nice that you do."

Lucas looked up for a second to see her half-smiling at him, the corners of her lips wanting to curl upwards while the rest of her face desperately tried to flatten them down again, and an immediate pink blush rose to his cheeks and forced him to look away.

Peyton Sawyer was his friend! He was on her mind! If his Uncle Keith and Haley could only see him now, all those times they mocked him with 'it's never gonna happen' in a singsong voice at the mere mention of her name.

He now realised that he sounded unbelievably pathetic and that if she could read his mind, she would never speak to him again on the grounds of him being an enormous loser. He prayed that the redness on his cheeks had faded and handed her notebook back to her.

"Your drawings are good ... really good."

She felt the same blush sweep over her that Lucas had suffered just moments before. If there was one thing she really didn't know how to cope with, it was compliments.

"Thanks, I guess."

"And for the record, I'm glad we're friends. It's good to have someone to talk to ... or just sit with." He added, a coy smirk playing on his features and she rolled her eyes at his teasing of her inability to be a good conversationalist. "It makes this whole thing a little less scary and alienating, to be able to share it with someone."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Peyton shuffled in her seated position, tucking her legs underneath and to the side of her and setting her sketchpad down on the grass.

"It was just a cough." She began vaguely.

Lucas watched her cautiously, awaiting her next move.

"I'd had this cough for weeks and I just couldn't seem to shake it. My doctor gave me some antibiotics or something but they didn't touch it, I was still coughing. Not all the time, but a lot. It's a heavy, thumping cough, like a rock's trying to get out of my chest through my windpipe.

"When the antibiotics didn't work, my doctor sent me to a specialist, a respiratory something or other ... and he did a lot of tests, then after my blood tests came back, I had a CT and an MRI. And when you hear 'MRI', you know it isn't good ... I didn't know what they were looking for, or maybe I did but I didn't want to believe that that's what they were looking for...

"I've got a tumour ... about the size of an apple ... in my lung ... Here." She placed her hand on her chest, a couple of inches right of her heart to demonstrate its position. "Lung cancer ... at 16 ... pretty awesome huh?"

"I think I've probably smoked between fifteen and twenty cigarettes in my whole life and now I've got lung cancer, it hardly seems fair. There are idiots who are stupid enough to smoke forty a day and they don't have to go through this. And so now it's getting even bigger it's gonna protrude into my heart, so they're hoping that the chemo will shrink it for a while ... Apparently it's really aggressive and if it's left for much longer it's gonna metastasise elsewhere, so I'm actually pretty lucky that it's gonna kill me before it gets that far."

She wiped away an involuntary tear and feeling her watery eyes about to brim over, she turned away and shook her head furiously.

"I'm sorry." It was all Lucas could think of and he found the words spilling from his mouth. Even though he'd heard it so many times before and it never helped him, it just seemed like the most natural thing to say.

_Hold on, hold tight  
From out of your sight  
If everything keeps moving on, moving on_

_  
Hold on hold tight  
Make it through another night  
And everyday there comes a song with the dawn_

_  
We push and pull and I fall down sometimes  
I'm not letting go  
You hold the other line_

Lucas heard his name being called as one of the nurses walked through the trees towards them, it was time for his daily chemo. He called back that he was coming and ran a hand across his head, savouring the feel of the short, rough hair that was just starting to grow back and he would soon decide needed to be shaved before it fell out.

Peyton gave him a bittersweet smile, she could see the effects the awful chemicals had on his body which she guessed would have been quite muscular and athletic had it been given a chance, not to mention the toll it must take on his mind.

She hated the thought that this would be her, this time next week but she hated the fact that it was him, now, even more. This shy, sweet boy who took the time to distract her and make her feel better, was falling to pieces in front of her.

She wanted to help him, to give him some hope, a little slither of light at the end of the agonising tunnel.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow then?" Lucas asked casually as he stood.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"Hey, Lucas?" She called out as he turned to walk away. "Thank you for sitting with me today. And every day this week."

He smiled and nodded in reply. As he went to leave, her words halted him again.

"The drawing, the one of you and me ... it's of the best part of my day, that's why I drew it. Because sitting here with you is the best part of my day and if I could, I'd stay here all day, until the sunset."

Peyton cringed internally, it hitting her how unbelievably corny and girly that sounded.

Fortunately she thought, he didn't laugh at her and he actually seemed to like her sentimental gushing.

He just smiled in that lopsided way he did and nodded again.

"Yeah, me too."

_Cause there is a light, in your eyes, in your eyes  
There is a light, in your eyes, in your eyes_

_Breathe in, and breathe out  
Breathe in, and breathe out_

-x-

Lyrics - 'Breathe In, Breathe Out' - Mat Kearney


	3. I'm Just Waiting Till The Firing Starts

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews guys, I really appreciate you giving this somewhat shaky and depressing plotline a chance. I finally got down to writing a plan for this story today so in theory it'll all start to make more sense from now on. Lyrics are 'Lost' - Coldplay. Enjoy!

-x-

_Just because I'm losing  
Doesn't mean I'm lost  
Doesn't mean I'll stop  
Doesn't mean I will cross_

_Just because I'm hurting  
Doesn't mean I'm hurt  
Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserve  
No better and no worse_

"How does your mom cope with all this?"

"What?" Lucas pulled his sweater around himself tighter in spite of the balmy heat.

It was the first day of July and the atmosphere was coated in that unbearable, sticky warmth that sends most people running inside to the air conditioning or out into the nearest body of water. Lucas however, was feeling weak and freakishly chilly due to the increasing severity of his chemotherapy and so was in the only place that he could possibly fathom some form of comfort – the spot beneath the willow trees.

"How does your mom cope with all of your treatments and every time you get sick and then they think you're in remission and then you're not again, how does she deal with that? 'Cause I gotta be honest, I don't think my dad can take much more of this, how's your mom done it for seven years?"

Lucas pursed his thin lips as he thought of the best way to articulate his reply.

"My mom's the strongest person I've ever met but she's still human. She cries every single time, every time they say it's gone, every time they say it's back, every time they explain the risks and every time they describe a new form of treatment. Every single time. And that's what gets me through."

"How? To me, that sounds like it'd make it worse." Peyton wondered quietly.

"It does for a little bit, I hate seeing her cry. But it makes it real and that's what I need sometimes." He shuffled on the ground, crossing his legs beneath him. "Amongst all the medical jargon and the crap they feed you about staying positive, it's easy to get lost and pretend that it's not real. But it is and the sooner that you accept that, the better you're gonna be able to cope with it."

"Yeah, I can understand that." Peyton nodded casually whilst darkening in the corners of her drawing.

"Not that you need to worry... you seem to have accepted this all really easily. How'd _you_ cope with that?"

She drew a shallow breath and smiled cynically. "I am always prepared for the worst possible outcome. It's the only way to stop yourself from having to feel disappointed."

Lucas knitted his brows in concern. He could relate to that feeling of helplessness but after all he had suffered years of pain and let-downs in order to have to feel that, she shouldn't have to experience that. Not now, not ever.

"So when the doctor said 'cancer' as much as my heart was screaming 'No, please let him be wrong', my mind just took it all in and I thought that it's seems about right. That's how good my luck turns out. You get what you give right?" Peyton shrugged half-heartedly.

"Peyton, how can you think that you deserve this?" Lucas probed hesitantly.

The girl took a sudden interest in picking at her fingers whilst staring intently at the grass, the urge to allow a few tears to fall became increasingly overwhelming. The guilt stabbed at her heart and it hurt more than the cancer.

"I just don't know how my dad's gonna deal when it happens." She avoided his question less than subtly and he let it go ignored.

"He's already had to go through losing my mom and ... this is just really going to kill him." She finished quietly.

"So how come he's not here?" Lucas asked and Peyton raised her head to meet his gaze reluctantly. "He could be with you right now, spending time with you ... but he's not."

"He's coming today." She defended instantly. "To this 'parent – liaison' thing, we should probably get back soon for that actually."

"No I don't mean that, I mean that he could stay here with you if he wanted, they have lodgings for parents too. He could be here and he's not, I'm sure that if you asked him that he'd come. What dad wouldn't?" Lucas asked sadly, thoughts of his own far less than perfect father coming to mind.

Peyton squeezed back a tear and bit down on her bottom lip hard. "Don't judge my dad." She said firmly. "Don't you dare."

Lucas immediately raised his arms up in defence but before he could speak, Peyton cut him off.

"You have no idea what he's been through Lucas!" She snapped and getting to her feet quickly, she grabbed her bag and stormed off through the trees.

Lucas could only sit and watch her hurry away in surprise. He really hadn't meant to hurt her feelings or cause offense towards her father, why was she attacking him?

-x-

_I just got lost  
Every river that I've tried to cross  
And every door I ever tried was locked  
Oh, and I'm just waiting till the shine wears off_

_You might be a big fish  
In a little pond  
Doesn't mean you've won  
'Cause along may come  
A bigger one  
And you'll be lost_

Karen idly fiddled with the strap of her watch whilst she looked the doctor dead in the eye. She knew that he was talking to her and she could pick up on a few of the words he was mentioning like 'diagnostic ... relatively ... difficult ... and successful' but wasn't really forming them into coherent sentences.

But it didn't matter. She was used to this and she knew that after he was done explaining Lucas' current condition to her in the longest way possible, that he would give her the cliff notes version in about ten words and that would let her know everything that she need to.

"Ms Roe?" The doctor awoke her from her sober reverie. "As I was saying, Lucas seems to be responding as well as we would hope from this round of chemotherapy, so we'll keep it going until next week as we'd planned and then we can review the situation from there."

"Okay, that sounds reasonable. Thank you doctor." She smiled politely as she shook the man's hand before he walked away to talk to the next set of unfortunate parents.

She couldn't recall exactly when she started to smile at the doctors and nurses as if she was grateful for them pumping toxins into her only son's body but she can only remember doing it over the last three years or so. She could only scream and argue so much before the need to be gracious and respectful towards the clinicians who were consistently saving her boy's life took over.

So now she smiles simply and nods as if to say she understands when she knows she never will understand even a fraction of what is happening. When Lucas was first diagnosed, Karen endeavoured to read anything she could find on leukaemia, to inform herself on the treatments and the recovery rates. She thought it would help, to help her to be there for him but it didn't.

It only served to terrify her, to send her to sleep with nightmares of her little boy suffering, crying out for her to save him and she could do nothing but watch as he degenerated before her eyes.

Now she only learns what she needs to and allows his doctors to make many of the medical decisions for her. She never wanted to be this woman, the one who passes off the difficult responsibility to someone else but she just couldn't pretend that she knew what was best for him anymore.

He's her little boy and she's powerless to help him. All she can do is pray that the doctors make the right call and one day, someday, he'll be able to come home and he'll hug her tightly as he once was able to.

"Ms Roe?" This time it was the soft tones of a thirty-something brunette woman who brought her back to reality.

"Yes, sorry?" Karen mumbled as she repositioned her purse strap over her shoulder.

"Hi, my name's Callie, I'm one of the psychologists here. I wanted to talk to you about Lucas' progress in therapy."

Karen smiled and nodded once again as the woman led her to a picnic bench in the middle of a particular patch of grass and began to fill her in.

Apparently Lucas was coping relatively well with the treatments he was having. Callie complimented him on having a mature and resilient approach to his illness and sweetly attributed it to his mother's raising of him. Karen smiled in that courteous and meaningless way once again.

She then went on to describe how she was concerned about Lucas when he had first arrived at the camp as he seemed to isolate himself from the other inhabitants, preferring to sit alone and read. However, that seemingly hasn't been a problem since he's made friends with Peyton.

"I'm sorry, who?" Karen interrupted the counsellor before she could continue rambling about the new improved, contented Lucas.

"Peyton, she's a young girl about Lucas' age, she's another one of our 'troopers' here too." Callie smile brightened as the chirpy moniker passed her lips. "I'm sorry, I assumed that he would have told you about her. They seem to have formed quite a close bond, which is great for the kids in this kind of situation. It gives them someone to lean on who understands what they're going through."

Karen massaged her brows in an effort to relieve the stress that she could feel building behind her eyes. "Yeah well it might be great for some of these kids, but it's not great for Lucas. He's made friends before and he's lost each and every one of them, it breaks his heart every time."

"I understand how difficult that must be for him, but don't you think it's better for him to have a friend than to feel all alone?" Callie prompted gently.

Karen inhaled deeply, her hands came up to rest against her lips, palms pressed flat against each other. "The last time he lost a friend, Damien his name was, Lucas came out of remission. He had to be rushed into hospital and was put on chemo the next day, that's how fast it re-occurred. That's the kind of emotional turmoil he goes through when he sees somebody in his situation die, it was so severe that his cancer came back."

She closed her eyes tightly in an attempt to shun away any thoughts of her precious boy suffering.

"I understand that he needs a friend, I do. I'd just prefer if he found one who wasn't dying."

The young psychologist nodded sympathetically as if to say that she didn't understand but she still didn't judge.

"This now seems a little inappropriate perhaps, but I've just finished speaking to Peyton's father and I wondered if maybe the two of you would like to have a chat about the kids."

"Oh." Karen sighed heartily and looked towards the tall, broad man that was being pointed out to her on the other side of one of the cabins. "Of course I'll talk to him." If there was another person on this planet who could understand even a portion of what was going on in her head, then maybe she should try to make a friend too.

"Hi, I'm Karen Roe, I'm Lucas Scott's mother." She introduced herself and extended an arm for the older man to shake before she sat opposite him on another of the numerously scattered picnic benches.

"Larry Sawyer, I'm Peyton's dad. It's good to meet you, I hear that your son's made quite an impression on my little girl." He attempted to smile as he let go of the woman's hand but the effort didn't make it to his face, he couldn't actually remember the last time it was he smiled.

"Oh, right. I'm sorry, I didn't actually know until just now that Lucas had made friends with anybody in particular. But I'm sure that she's made an impression on him too." Karen quickly scanned her mind for the name 'Peyton Sawyer', she was sure that she'd heard it before, was she in Lucas' class in kindergarten?

"Anyway, I just felt it right to introduce myself. Peyton's told me that your son is being very supportive towards her and utilising his extensive knowledge." He tried to joke mildly before the daunting reality sobered him. "I'm very sorry to learn all that you've been through, your Lucas must be a very strong young man to keep fighting this."

Karen nodded but this time in earnest, she agreed whole heartedly, her son was incredibly strong and amongst all the agony, it made her very proud.

She also recognised the inexperience in his words. "I assume that Peyton has been diagnosed recently ..."

Larry nodded and gazed off into the trees. "Yeah, it was a month and a half ago. Lung cancer ... which I didn't believe at the time and I'm not totally sure if I do now. She's just a little girl, she's my little girl and lung cancer is something that old, sick smokers get." He shook his head and Karen could tell he was trying not to let his emotions show.

She was having trouble believing it too, in the seven years that Lucas had been sick she'd never once met a child with lung cancer.

"The doctors say that it's so rare in a young non-smoker and that's probably why it wasn't caught until late." Larry continued.

"Late?" Karen questioned worryingly in a soft tone.

"She's only got four months left, at the most." He choked out the last few words and Karen instinctively reached out to place her hand over his comfortingly.

The mother bit back a tear as her fear was realised, her poor boy was going to lose another friend. And not just any friend, as her memory shifted back into gear she recalled why the girl's name was so familiar. He was going to lose the girl he once identified as 'the future Mrs Scott'.

She then caught sight of her son, looking thin and weak as ever which still broke her heart, emerging from the thick forest in pursuit of a pretty blonde girl, looking just as weary, who was rushing as fast as she could towards one of the residential cabins.

She could have guessed who she was but didn't have to as the man sitting opposite her quickly jumped up, pushing her hand away and ran after Peyton with a mumbled excuse thrown back towards her.

Before she could worry about what was bothering the poor girl, Lucas made his way towards her, stumbling and short of breath.

"Mom ... Hi ... I didn't expect you here till ... later." He struggled to speak as Karen helped him to sit.

"Lucas," she scolded warningly, contradicting the warm, encompassing hug she was giving him. "What are you doing running around this place, you should be resting ... look at you, you're burning up." She placed a hand across his forehead the way only mothers do.

"Mom, don't worry, I'm fine –"

His mutterings were cut off by a violent heave released from his throat followed by a spray of vomit which splattered across his clothing and his mother's before she tilted his head downwards and the rest covered the grass.

Karen held him in her arms, stroking his head and cheek tenderly as he emptied the remaining contents of his stomach.

One of the counsellors ran to help clean up, offering towels to both Lucas and Karen and aiding her in carrying the sick boy inside.

Peyton looked on in horror from her spot at the door to her cabin where her father had caught up with her. Remorse filled her veins as she mentally retraced Lucas' steps, the way that he ran after her for fear he had upset her and in doing so had made himself violently ill.

The guilt once again over took her body and she sobbed quietly against her father's chest.

Larry Sawyer watched as Lucas was carted inside by a team of people, any colour in his face had vanished and his obviously limp body was tired and coated in his own vomit. He felt for the poor boy, he really did, but he couldn't shake the more disturbing feeling that one day very soon, that would be his little girl.

_Every river that you tried to cross  
Every gun you ever held went off  
Oh, and I'm just waiting till the firing starts  
Oh, and I'm just waiting till the shine wears off  
Oh, and I'm just waiting till the shine wears off  
Oh, and I'm just waiting till the shine wears off_

_-x-_


End file.
